


Wrong Number

by SushiOwl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Demon Peter Hale, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Rimming, Steter Week, The Steter Network, Wings, Witch Stiles Stilinski, it's just a shit ton of sex, stiles gets spanked like ONCE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: Steter Week Nov 27 Prompt Fill - Supernatural CreatureDemon Lord!Peter/Witch!Stiles"What do you and your coven desire from the dark?" Sometimes he liked be cheesy. Humans were into it, otherwise they wouldn't put it in their insipid (but wildly entertaining) TV shows.The witch boy finally set down his reading material. Peter had thought it was a book, but it was actually a plastic folder with photocopies of pages from a book. Peter would have to decided if he was insulted later."No coven, just me," the witch said, closing his folder. There was a Batman symbol on the front, so Peter was certainly insulted.He was not about to put on such a show for one human either. He let his mist drop and gave the boy an unimpressed expression that included a lifted brow and lips tilted down at the corners. "Alright then, just you. What deal are you looking for?""Will you take my virginity for bragging rights?"





	Wrong Number

**Author's Note:**

> Got this done right under the wire!
> 
> Thanks much to shipperslist for the swift glance over and the suggestions to make it more... sensible, lol.
> 
> Hope you guys like it.

Peter looked out over the fields of ash and tar from his high rise office, watched the volcanoes in the distance spit fire and molten lava, and caught sight of a pack of hell hounds chasing some screaming, tortured souls across the plains of broken glass and rusted nails. He sighed. "Bored," he told his office, lips pulling to the side.

When was Lust's next orgy of shame? Maybe that would amuse him for a spell.

"Knock, knock, boss man," his assistant purred to him as she came in.

Peter looked over, finding her holding a small bubbling cauldron of blood on a shiny silver platter and walking over to his desk. "What do you have for me, Erica?" he asked, not moving from his spot.

"A summoning from a witch boy," she replied, setting down the cauldron on the desk, before she flipped her hair, crossed two of her arms and set her other two hands on her hips.

"Did he give a reason why he would summon me, specifically?" Peter asked, turning to lean against the glass. There were screams of agony and terror in the distance, muted and dull to his senses.

Erica flicked her multiple eyes about, spiked tail swishing, before she shrugged. "No."

"Not interested," Peter told her, looking back out into the chaos and sticking his nose in the air.

"Aw, okay, then I guess you'll be free for your sister's weapon audit in twenty minutes--"

"Wait," Peter barked, putting his hand out to stop her before she could pick up the cauldron. "I'll take it. You never know how important a summoning could be, what deals you could make." 

She just smirked at him knowingly, showing a couple dozen needle teeth, before she bowed her head and left him.

Peter approached his desk and looked down into the cauldron. He could hear the Latin the boy was chanting, stilted and read from a book that it was. Well, anything to make him unavailable for an audit, he'd take it. He let his form dissolve and flow into the bubbling blood.

He ended up in a room with no furniture, just a chalk circle on the floor and a kneeling witch before him. The boy looked up, wide-eyed with flushed cheeks and a soft mouth, as Peter materialized before him, surrounded by a swirling black mist with nothing but his burning red eyes showing through. It was a parlor trick, but it had always worked for him.

"Hello, boy," Peter said, his voice bouncing off the walls of the room to make it sound like it was coming from everywhere. 

The boy's chin was on the floor as he stared up in reverie. He hadn't bowed yet though. That was strange. Maybe he was too much in awe. Peter could appreciate that.

"What do you and your coven desire from the dark?" Sometimes he liked be cheesy. Humans were into it, otherwise they wouldn't put it in their insipid (but wildly entertaining) TV shows.

The witch boy finally set down his reading material. Peter had thought it was a book, but it was actually a plastic folder with photocopies of pages from a book. Peter would have to decided if he was insulted later.

"No coven, just me," the witch said, closing his folder. There was a Batman symbol on the front, so Peter was certainly insulted. 

He was not about to put on such a show for one human either. He let his mist drop and gave the boy an unimpressed expression that included a lifted brow and lips tilted down at the corners. "Alright then, just you. What deal are you looking for?"

"Will you take my virginity for bragging rights?" the witch asked in a hurried breath, eyes going huge as he said it. Peter wasn't sure what to say at first, and that spurned the witch to spew words like he'd never stop. "I mean, I was complaining to my friend that none of the hot witches around here even look at me, and he said it was because I look like a desperate virgin, so I told him how was I supposed to lose my virginity when it's  _ so _ obvious I'm a virgin? He said to summon an incubus, and I was like 'dude, I don't wanna give up my life force to get sexed up' and he told me that an incubus would just take my virginity as payment itself." The human dragged in a ragged breath and stopped wringing his long, bony fingers. "So, hi, do you want my virginity?" He put on the most awkward smile.

Peter's eyebrow had only crept higher on his forehead. "Bragging rights, you say?" he asked, looking down at the runes around the summoning circle he was in. It didn't take him long to spot the bit of smudged chalk, no doubt ruined by a quick, nervous hand dragging over it. Well, that explained a few things. He should probably just leave, but back in hell an audit awaited him, and he was not about to crunch numbers with the torturers. 

He could always just stay...

He looked down at the human. "What is your name, witch boy?"

"Stiles," he replied, brows drawing together like he was annoyed at being spoken to that way. That was kind of endearing. He most likely would have been groveling, however, if he'd known that Peter wasn't just a lowly minion of Lust's.

"Alright Stiles. When you say you want to lose your virginity, what exactly do you want to do?" 

Stiles's little pink tongue flicked out, running anxiously over his plush lips a few times. He took a deep breath as he looked around, likely for inspiration or bravery or what have you, before he let the air out of his nose and looked back of up at Peter, so earnest on his knees, and said, "Everything."

Peter wasn't about to say no to that. He curled his mouth into a dirty little smile. "I can do that. Release me from this circle, and I'll teach you things that will have the other witches begging for your attention."

Stiles pulled the sleeve of his red hoodie up over the heel of his hand with his teeth and rubbed out a spot on the border of the summoning circle, looking eagerly up at Peter when he was done. 

Peter stepped forward, right into Stiles's personal space, and the human tensed in surprise, but, to his credit, didn't scamper away. Peter caught him under the chin and lifted him to his feet. He was tall, no doubt lean under those layers like his hands and neck. He had a young face, one that could be called naive. But Peter recognized it as one of desperation consume, to  _ know _ . He smelled powerful. He would be one to watch once he had a handle on his abilities.

"What did you want to do first?" Peter ask, curling his hand around Stiles's throat. He didn't squeeze, just held him so he could feel his rabbiting heartbeat. Stiles's breath was fast as his eyes went a little glazed with all the possibilities. Again, he was fetching, painfully innocent while wanting to be anything but.

Maybe he could make a deal with Lust about answering these calls...

"I want..." Stiles started, before he swallowed, which made his Adam's apple jab against Peter's palm.

"Mm?" Peter leaned in, taking a breath of Stiles's scent, which was a mixture of dirt after a Spring rain and raw cinnamon. "Tell me."

"I want to know your name," Stiles said, before he looked a little embarrassed. "Then I want to know how to kiss. Really kiss."

Peter smiled, knowing he was going to do terrible things to this boy. "My name is Peter, darling," he said, swiping his thumb over Stiles's chin. "And I would love to teach you to properly kiss." He leaned in, eyelids lowering, but he stopped when Stiles let out a little snort. He opened his eyes to find the human holding in some laughter. "What?" he asked flatly. "Why do you look constipated?"

"Your name is  _ Peter? _ " Stiles asked, grinning. "Isn't that a little Biblical for a demon?"

Peter let one his eyebrows slide slowly up toward his hairline. "Alright, well, you had to go and bring religion into this, so now I'm not going to show you how to kiss someone stupid."

"Aw--" Stiles tried, but Peter just hushed him with a thumb over his soft lips.

"Take me to your room," Peter said, smiling as Stiles’s face went a little pink.

“Okay.” Stiles’s lip dragged against Peter’s thumb. Then he realized he should move back in order to go anywhere.

Stiles’s room was what you’d expect of any young witch. There was an unkempt bed, just a mattress and a box spring on the floor. He had a dinky little desk with an older model laptop and a chair that was more duct tape than faux leather. There was a TV with a game system and one controller that had an actual Band-Aid on it. (Precious.) That was all normal. The most interesting thing in room was how against one wall were stacks and stacks of tomes and books on witchcraft, starting from the floor and almost as tall as the witch himself.

“Have you ever heard of a bookcase?” Peter asked, turning toward Stiles. “Or two?”

Stiles shrugged and bit his lip, obviously not capable of talking about books when he was about to have (a lot of) sex for the first time. That was alright.

Peter walked over and grabbed Stiles’s pillow, dropping it on the floor and pointing to it. “On your knees.”

Stiles became so much more flushed as he looked down, before he swallowed and obeyed. He rubbed his palms on his jeans as Peter’s hands went to his belt, undoing it with a clink. He was thinking about how Stiles’s mouth would look stretched and swollen, but he froze when Stiles’s hands came up to stop him.

“Can I?” Stiles asked, looking just a touch hesitant to ask, as if he might do something wrong.

Peter dropped his hands, giving Stiles a nod. “I appreciate the initiative.”

A smile jerked at the edge of Stiles’s mouth for just a second like a splash of pride, before he focused on the task at hand. With the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he opened Peter pants, looked briefly amused at the lack of underwear, and reached in to pull out Peter’s cock. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at it.

Peter let him take in the majesty. He wasn’t obscenely large, but he wasn’t small either. He was on the heavy side, and he wasn’t even hard yet. He smirked down at Stiles. “Do you need an instructional manual?” 

Stiles broke out his reverie with a snorting laugh, looking up at Peter and licking his lips. “I’ve seen some porn--”

“Oh, only some?”

Stiles let out a bratty little  _ pff! _ “Okay, a ridiculous amount. The point is; I can figure it out.” 

He took Peter’s dick in hand, chewing his bottom lip a second, before he sucked the tip in his mouth, his lips pillow soft around the crown. Peter had known that would beautiful, but the reality was stunning. Stiles’s eyelashes fluttered down to rest against his cheek as he explored curiously with his tongue. It felt nice just letting him learn the feels of it and become confident enough to stick the tip of his clever tongue in his slit and wriggle it around.

Peter let him experiment, let him play. It was a nice feeling until it became boring, and that was when Peter set his hand on Stiles’s head, prompting him to look up at him with his mouth open and the head of Peter’s cock resting on his tongue. Wasn’t that a pretty sight?

“See how much of me you can take, pet,” Peter said, nudging forward just a bit. “Use your hand for the rest.”

Stiles did as instructed, sucking him in and holding the base of his cock with his hand. He gave a few untimed bobs of his head at various angles, pulling off at the end to suck in a breath, before he went back in. Peter just held the back of his head, watching him give the sloppiest blowjob Peter had received, but that was alright. It wasn’t like he planned to come like this.

“Try to keep up suction and your tongue pressed up against my dick,” Peter said, and Stiles looked up at him. He immediately hollowed out his cheeks, the flat of his tongue against the underside of Peter’s cock. “That’s good,” Peter sighed out as Stiles started bobbing his head again. “Now try moving your hand at the same time.” Stiles did so, meeting the downward bob of his head with the upward stroke of his hand. “Very good, sweetheart.”

Stiles responded to the praise by a soft moan.

“Try to keep up,” Peter said, and Stiles looked up with his doe eyes. Peter started rocking forward, holding the back of the young witch's head to urge him to continue meeting him with bobs of his head. He was doing his best, his cheeks getting redder and his eyes clenching shut as he made a misstep in his breathing and couldn’t quite catch up. It was gorgeous.

So of course Peter had to ruin it. He started moving faster, smirking to himself as Stiles did his best to keep up, to take what he was given and not disappoint. But then he either bobbed too far forward, or Peter thrust too far into his mouth; either way it ended in Stiles choking on his dick, throat spasming. He jerked back, coughing hard. He leaned his forehead against Peter's hip, trying to gain control of his ragged breathing again. 

Peter set his hand in his hair, petting gently and feeling a strange warm curl of pride in his chest. "You're doing very well for a virgin," he said, still smiling sharply.

Stiles dragged in a breath and let it out. "I can't tell if that was a compliment or an insult." He nuzzled his forehead into the jut of Peter's hip.

"A little of both. Get up, dear boy. Time to continue."

Stiles rocked back onto his feet and got up, wobbling a little due to his stiff knees. Peter caught him by the front of his shirt and turned to drop him on the bed, where he landed in a sprawl. His eyes were blown wide with intent, and his mouth was swollen and slick.

He was ready to be ruined.

Peter slid his suit jacket off and laid it over the back of the rickety desk chair. His shirt and pants soon followed, his shoes having gone under the desk. Stiles had been watching him the whole time, curious and eager, with his fingers curled in the covers like he might touch himself if he didn't hang onto something. That was good. Peter didn't want him to come unless he was the one making him do it. Directly.

Peter went to his knees on the bed, lifting Stiles's shirt and tossing it to the side when it was off. He looked over the exposed skin, dotted with moles and freckles as it was. Stiles was breathing fast, obviously wanting to be touched. Anywhere. So Peter's fingers went to his pants, popping the snap and pulling down the fly. Stiles lifted his hips like the good boy he was, sucking in a breath through his teeth as Peter's thumbs brushed across his hip bones. 

This level of sensitivity was going to be fun to toy with.

Stiles was a sight once he was naked, all pale skin with the faintest of tan lines at his neck and wrists. Peter could see constellations and power in his skin, only needing honing and direction. He reached to touch his long swan throat, wanting to feel his heartbeat again.

"Wait," Stiles gasped, mouth an oval and eyes wide. "I want--hang on." He scrambled up and over to his bedside table, digging around in it. First he pulled out a strip of condoms and a half used bottle of lube, but that didn't seem to be what he was immediately after. Finally he found a small vial with a shimmering black liquid in it. He uncorked it and drank it down, grimacing at the taste. He tossed the vial back in the drawer and wiped his lips.

Peter arched a brow up high in question.

Stiles looked embarrassed--more so than before--and rubbed his hands together. "Heh, uh, potency potion. I don't... I want this to last. Being one and done after summoning an incubus would be kind of anticlimactic--okay, wrong word. Just. I want to experience everything I can."

Peter’s lips had a dastardly pull to the side. “Oh, you’re doomed now.” He crooked his finger, beckoning Stiles closer.

Stiles crawled over hurriedly, before he huffed as Peter had him on his back in a second and pinned with a hand to his throat. Stiles looked surprised, but then he turned his head to the side and gave all the access to his neck at Peter could ever want. 

Peter dragged his finger along the length of it. Then he touched his collarbone, sliding along the breadth of it and feeling the hollow. He moved on to his chest, skating his finger around his nipple on one side, smiling at Stiles's shaky little sigh. He brushed his thumb over his other nipple, earning the smallest of whimpers.

Letting his fingers meander their way down, Peter stroked over Stiles's navel and finally reached his crotch. His dick was trembling. All of him was trembling, really. His dick was hard and leaking against his stomach, and his legs fell even farther apart, toes curling.

Watching him a moment, Peter made a plan in his head, just the right one to break this witch to pieces. He grabbed Stiles by the knees, making him gasp, before he went pliant again as Peter ran his fingers down his inner thighs. Then he grabbed his cock in one hand and rubbed his thumb into the slit.

Watching Stiles closely, Peter leaned down and pressed his lips against the crown of Stiles's cock. The reaction was immediate and strong: a sharp hiss and a flail of legs when Stiles wasn't sure what to do with himself. So much fun. Peter pinned Stiles to the bed, holding his hips and legs still as he took him into his mouth and taught him what a real blowjob was supposed to feel like.

Predictably, Stiles could barely contain himself and came in about a minute, but Peter didn't expect anything more. At least he had taken a potency potion. That meant he could have him come over and over, and he cry out beautifully every time.

Peter lifted up and licked his lips, smiling down at the witch in amusement. He was panting, his face and chest a bit blotchy where it was flushed. His eyes were just a bit glazed, but they were rapidly focusing again. The moment he was back to knowing what was up and what was down, Peter flipped him over and pulled him up on his knees, delighting in the strangled noise of surprise.

"Oh God," Stiles whispered into the covers.

Peter promptly gave his ass a smack. "Certainly not."

At Stiles whispered apology, Peter spread his ass cheeks and licked him from the base of his dick to his tailbone, grinning at the noise he made. "I hope you're taking notes," he said into his supple flesh, which he nipped. He flicked his tongue lightly over the tightly furrowed hole a few times, before he pressed his tongue tightly against it and undulated it like a wave. 

It didn't take long before Stiles's ass relaxed and he moaned, sinking his upper half into the covers. Peter kept licking at him, kitten soft sometimes and like ice cream others. He waited until the hole flexed on nothing, before he stabbed his tongue inside. He got him sloppy wet, twirling his tongue and listening to him let out like 'ah's and 'oh's and the occasional creative curse. Stiles's hole felt almost like it was trying to suck Peter's tongue in, so very inviting that he had to move on to the next thing.

He pulled back, and leaned over to grab the lube, going slow and dragging it along the covers as Stiles's watched. His eyes were a little wide as he turned his head and looked over his shoulder, tension returning to his spine. So Peter ran a hand up and down his back. "Don't worry, pet, I'll make it so good for you." He wasn't interested in hurting people he was fucking. The idea made bile rise in his throat. He wasn't that kind of evil... more like corporate evil.

Stiles slumped again after a minute, shifting on his knees. Peter assessed him, before he just pulled his legs out slowly so he'd lie all the way down. He pushed his knees wide apart, glancing up at Stiles as he folded his arms under his cheek and watched what Peter was doing.

Peter made a show of slowly drizzling the lube over his fingers and rubbing them together to get them nice and wet. He kept his eyes locked with Stiles, lowering his hand and rubbing the pad of his middle finger in a slow, torturous circle over his hole, over and over again. He waited until Stiles whined softly, biting his lip and edging his hips back a bit, trying to get more. Peter gave it to him, sliding his finger in and smirking at the shuddering breath Stiles let out.

Preparing someone was easy. In and out, in and out, until he was loose enough for two. In and out. Scissor motion. By the time Stiles was loose enough to be fucked, he was barely keeping still, shifting his hips this way and that, searching for more. So Peter turned his hand palm down and nailed his prostate straight on. Stiles gasped, eyes flying open as he grabbed onto the covers.

Peter just grinned wickedly and mercilessly attacked the gland over and over, reducing the witch to the moaning, crying out mess who didn't know what to do with himself, whether to pull away or seek more. But he took it beautifully, and finally he figured out how to rock back. He didn't have much leverage, but he did his best, so Peter rewarded him by rubbing harder over his prostate.

Stiles clenched up, his whole body seizing, before he tossed his head back with a loud cry. He shivered and jerked, his hole grasping at Peter's fingers, so needy.

It was going to feel damn amazing buried in there.

Peter gave the witch's prostate a few more rubs, just to see him twitch and hear him keen, before he pulled his hand back. Stiles's hole stayed open a bit, looking wet and red inside. "Still with me?" he asked, running his hand up the back of Stiles's jelly leg to give his ass cheek a pat. 

Stiles just mumbled something nonsensical. 

Peter kept touching him, massaging his thighs and ass, stroking his back and watching him come back to himself. Two orgasms could take a lot out of a human, and for a virgin Stiles was certainly performing beyond expectation, potency potion or no. 

After a few minutes of petting that probably would have put a less determined human to sleep, Stiles pushed himself up and grabbed the strip of condoms in a trembling gasp. Initiative; Peter liked that. Stiles ripped one off and tossed the rest to the end of the bed. Then he offered it over.

Peter shook his head with a lecherous tilt to his lips. "Put it on me. You need to learn how." 

Amazingly enough, after all they'd already done, Stiles actually blushed and looked down at Peter dick. Then his face went petulant as he opened the packet, pulled out the lubed latex and tossed the foil away. "I know how to put a condom on a dick," he grumbled, scooting over.

"Oh, practiced on yourself, have you? Or did you use a banana?" 

Indignation showed on Stiles's face in the puff of his cheeks and blotchy flush of his adorable nose. He mumbled something very softly as he plopped between Peter's legs. All Peter caught was 'cucumber', which made him want to laugh, but he didn't. Instead he leaned back on his hands and let Stiles put the condom on him. He pinched the tip and rolled the rest down properly, didn't even shake. Practice, indeed.

Peter took up the lube again and slicked up the condom more, before he tilted his head at Stiles. "Hop on."

If Stiles got any redder, he'd definitely blow a blood vessel in his face. He got up on his knees and moved to hover over Peter's lap. He then, very hilariously, tried to get Peter's dick up his ass, but there was a lot of slipping and sliding and stabbing in the taint. Peter laughed, but only on the inside, and took hold of himself to help the poor guy out. 

Finally Stiles sank down on him. He looked terribly surprised by it too, mouth falling open and he settled down on Peter's legs. "Oh," he whispered, soft and sweet, and Peter felt a strange warmth in his chest. "Can I move?" he asked, rotating just a bit.

"Yes," Peter said, surprised at the quiet of his answer. "Slowly. Don't hurt yourself." He took hold of Stiles's hips, urging him to start rocking.

Stiles did, moaning quietly. It took him a minute to work out a rhythm, but eventually he did and kept it up. It was slow, like Peter had instructed, and he seemed to love it. He put his hands on Peter's shoulders, grasping lightly. He had his eyes closed, head tilted back in reverie. It was a sight, but it could be better.

"Look at me," he murmured to the human, who did as told with a whine. "Show me how much you love this. Tell me."

Stiles's brows came together, and he whimpered as he bit his lip. His dick dragged against Peter's stomach, leaving a wet, shiny trail. "I-I--ngh," he tried, squeezing his eyes shut a second. "It's good." He tipped forward, wrapping his arms about Peter's shoulders and pressing his face against his neck. "It's so good, nn. I can feel every--every inch of you, fuck."

"Mm." Peter nuzzled Stiles's ear. "You feel so hot around me, dear. I want to stay inside you for all eternity." He nipped at that earlobe. "Until we both forget where I start and you end."

Stiles gave a tiny moan, his hips stuttering in the rolls, before he tried to go faster. But Peter's hands kept him going the same pace. Peter felt Stiles's nails dig into the backs of his shoulders and smiled.

"Wouldn't you love it, sweetheart?" Peter purred into his ear. "I could keep you on the edge for eons, and you'd know maddening pleasure just short of release until I allowed it."

Stiles let out a thready, needy sound against Peter's cheek, his breath warm even against Peter's consistently scorching skin. He tightening his hold and attempted to change the pace again, make it faster or harder or any kind of different, but Peter's grip was steel on his hips. He whispered something near unintelligible.

Peter couldn't help but smile, keeping Stiles moving at that slow pace. "What was that, pet? Do you have a request for me? Speak up, good boys who ask nicely get what they want." 

"Please!" Stiles cried out, his face still hidden. "I need more, please." He grasped at Peter's back. "Please."

Peter hummed to himself and considered it. "I suppose." He took in a breath and felt a shift along his shoulder blades, before he heard the tell tale sound of his wings unfurling and felt the air against the webbing.

It took Stiles a moment, but eventually he lifted his head and jerked ramrod straight in surprise. He stared at the majesty of Peter's leathery wings, large and black with subtle color where the light hit like an oil slick and a single, prehensile clawed ulna. Stiles finally got his voice back after a second of gawking. "What the fu--!"

Peter liked using his wings in sex, which was why they were suddenly hanging from the ceiling, his feet against the wall and his wing claws digging into the ripple spackle directly above. He could keep them steady enough, but Stiles was obviously shaken, clinging onto Peter with all his strength.

"Yes, dear, do hold on," Peter said, smiling, before he took hold of Stiles's hips and slipped back inside him after their momentarily flight had unset things. He gave him a  _ real _ ride. He was rough, using his wings and feet to rock, and Stiles could do little more than take it. He had no way to brace himself to get any leverage, could only hang on and moan or cry out as he succumbed to Peter's mercy as he delivered unrelenting pleasure.

That was the way it should be.

As Peter had guessed, it was delicious to be inside Stiles when he came. He clenched and spasmed around Peter's cock, shooting what little he had left across Peter's stomach. It was enough to bring Peter right to the edge, but not enough to push him over. Not yet. Peter held Stiles against him, dropping back down onto the bed and making him let out a whine or surprise.

"Shh, you did well, sweet one," Peter said, leaning over Stiles and pulling his hips up to meet him as he used the bends of his wings against the mattress as support. "You're perfect."

Stiles gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes, mouth slack as he let Peter move his body in any way he pleased. He sighed softly at the constant drag along his prostate, but that was not enough to get him hard after three orgasms. Potency potions were only so potent.

But he reached out all the same, grasping at Peter's wings and somehow getting his legs up to wrap loosely around Peter's waist. Then he said in a voice so low and hoarse from all the screaming he had done, "Give it to me."

Peter did, rather suddenly if Peter were honest with himself, which he rarely was. He didn't scream or call out Stiles's name, just pressed flush against his ass and let out a shaking breath. He watched Stiles's face as his come flooded the condom, and smiled a little as the witch looked far more surprised than he'd thought he would.

"Warm," Stiles whispered, thighs squeezing Peter's sides as best they could.

"Mmhm," Peter replied, shifting them around so Stiles was lying flat and Peter could take off the condom. He tied it off and tossed it in the  _ general _ direction of a trash bin, before he called his wings back and stretched. He looked down over Stiles's pliant form, before he laid down next to him. "Was it everything you hoped for?"

"Mmm." Stiles shifted, turning on his side. "Almost."

"Almost? What did we forget?" Peter asked, mouth pulling into a sharp smile. "Blindfolding? Flogging?"

"No!" Stiles gasped with a snort.

"We technically did a sex swing, and that's more than most virgins accomplish their first go."

"Stop it." Stiles hid his face in the crook of his own arm and giggled.

"What then?" Peter brushed his fingers through Stiles's hair gently.

The witch looked back at him, hesitation in his eyes. "Well, you still haven't taught me how to kiss."

Peter's brows went up, before he leaned in and he pulled Stiles's head close, connecting their lips. He kissed him gently at first, just sliding their lips together with soft smooching noises. When Peter parted his lips, Stiles did the same, and their tongues met before their lips sealed together. 

It was strange. Kissing Stiles was... comfortable, like something he could get used to. Peter wasn't aware he had it in him to feel something like that.

They kissed until Peter's mouth was tingling, and even then they traded small pecks. Then they settled against the pillow Peter had pulled down. 

"There," Peter murmured, feeling almost sleepy as he gently touched Stiles along his jaw and neck. "Was that everything you could want?"

Stiles smiled the kind of smile that could hurt someone's cheeks. He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it was." Then he sat up and looked down at Peter. "Which is why it pains me to do this."

"Do wh--" Peter grunted when he was suddenly on his back and Stiles was sitting on his stomach, hands on his chest. He began to chant in rapid Latin, and Peter felt a pull around his limbs, like they were being restrained. He could just feel a vice coming around his neck, could feel a spell trying to contain him. It didn't hold, not even for a second. He blinked up at Stiles. "Did you just try to bind me?"

Stiles's face went immediately terrified, eyes going wide, and he was a frozen weight on Peter's stomach. "Uh."

Peter couldn't help but burst out into unrestrained laughter, the loudest sound he'd made since he got to this plane. He put his hands over his face as he laughed, shaking so hard with it that Stiles was nearly unseated. "You tried to bind me. That's hilarious!"

"I... don't understand," Stiles said, and Peter looked up at him. The shock on his face was wonderful. "That spell should have worked on you. I practiced it forever. It should have worked!"

Peter let out a kind of snorting laugh. "It probably would have worked on an incubus."

It took a long moment and a slow blink, but Stiles finally figured it out. "You... are not... an incubus."

Shaking his head, Peter just grinned up at him. "You smudged your austu rune, sweetling." He sat up, which made Stiles fall back into his lap. "And what were you going to do with a bound demon?"

Stiles didn't answer, just looked away. It was something personal, and by the look on his face, Peter could guess that it wasn't to benefit himself, but someone else. "Doesn't matter now," he finally said, turning his big amber eyes back to Peter. "Is this where you kill me and drag my soul to hell?"

"Not my style. Here." Peter took Stiles's hand and laid his own over it, calling just a bit of magic to materialize something under his fingers. He pulled his hand back and there laid a rich, dark as blood ruby in a tight silver cage.

Stiles stared down at it in complete befuddlement, then looked up.

"Think of it as my personal calling card. If you get bored and need some  _ companionship _ , don't hesitate to call me." He snickered as Stiles continued to have confusion written all over his face. "You're fun, Stiles. I could use a little fun."

A smile spread slowly across Stiles's face as he closed his hand around the calling jewel. "Does this mean you'll help me with my Religious Studies homework?"

Peter frowned. "Okay, give me that back." He reached for the stone, and Stiles jerked back with a squealing laugh. 

They rolled, wrestling for top position, and Peter even let Stiles have it a time or two. He had to laugh when Stiles blew a raspberry against his neck, feeling genuinely almost  _ giddy _ for the first time in centuries. He had to kiss the giggles out of Stiles’s mouth when they got tangled in the sheets.

Legs intertwined, Peter let Stiles drape over him as sleep pulled them both into stillness. Peter had caught Stiles’s hand, lacing their fingers with the calling stone between theirs palms.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering, Talia is indeed The Devil. Peter is her accountant. He's a lord, and he has power, but yeah, accountant.
> 
> Stiles wanted to bind an incubus to draw on its power to make his spells stronger. Probably healing spells for his dad. IDK. I'm not prepared to look any deeper into that at 3:30am. Lazy.
> 
> I'mma go to sleep for like 20 hours now, bye!


End file.
